I have seen the past and it scares me

There is no easier way to frighten the pants off of anyone over thirty than by telling them anecdotes that make it abundantly clear that they are aging: ‘The Tale Of the Little Girl Who Had No Idea What A VHS Tape Was’, ‘I Handed A Child A Real Photograph And It Tried To Zoom In Using Its Fingers (A True Story)’, ‘What Is The Relation Between A Cassette Tape And A Pencil: A Horror Story In Two Acts’. Thirty-somethings now stand around at parties whispering about the intern at work who only remembers floppy disks because of the ‘save’ icon, and whose childhood memories of ‘Batman’ are of Christian Bale, not Adam West (and this reference will date itself once Ben Affleck takes over the franchise, I’m sure). At those times the generation gap seems more like a chasm, impossible to bridge.

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Published by Rene

About me for Word Press:
I am 50. Yeah! Ok, I have cried, whined, and even talked with a guy who told me he was Father Time. I am thinking he was not and he was just an old man trying to hit on me. Anywho, fifty is here, no escaping now. Yes, I am slightly obsessed with this change in my life. I don’t feel 50, although I am not sure what 50’ers feel like. I just remember thinking, and this doesn’t seem like too long ago, ‘OMG! You are 50. That is so old. I am never going to be 50. Kill me before I get that old.’ Well, nobody has killed me yet, maybe that is at the surprise b-day party. I feel 35, and I know what that felt like. I was independent, had my cool ass truck, and my life was great. I had a great career at the time, and was dating a lot. So, I think I will just turn 35 again at this b-day. PEOPLE TAKE NOTE: This year will be my 35th b-day.
Okay, about the rest of me. I have a “crew of three”: a Bichon Frise (M) who is not show worthy by a long shot simply because ‘his mamma’ cuts his hair’; I have a Maine Coon (not a hat!) (F) who is the oldest of us all, including older than me; and then the littlest one, my all black Ragamuffin cat (F) who is almost as old (6 months younger) as the Maine Coon. Now the one who causes the most problems: hmmm…depends on the day, or night as it were. Wizard, the loveable ball of energy (which I am sure he steals from me at night), is the Bichon (so you don’t have to look it up, he is a dog. No seriously, he is a canine.), well, he can be quite a handful. So much so, g-ma doesn’t want to have anything to do with him most of the time. He is a dog, thus he is work. Cats are lazy, and thus people who don’t like to work with their animals have cats. (Oh, jeez! Sit down all you cat people. Get over yourselves. I have two cats as well, so I am equal opportunity pet owner.) I am sure I will be sharing many antics about him in future writings. The cats are pretty…well, lame. They lay around all day, are too quick for breakfast and supper (we have scheduled times here), and they basically do nothing. They are at the age now where they are not even really entertaining anymore. The black one looks so much like one of my black pillows, I have to make sure there are not claws attached to what I lay my head on. The Maine Coon, though, she is the one who understands me the best. She is like me, whereas the other two sort
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